


Terms of Engagement

by fractalserpentine, HopeofDawn



Series: Strangers In A Strange Land [8]
Category: Legacy of Kain
Genre: Blood Drinking, Dom/sub, M/M, Sexual Violence, Vampire Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-06
Updated: 2011-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-15 11:34:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractalserpentine/pseuds/fractalserpentine, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeofDawn/pseuds/HopeofDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kain has returned, and has a bone to pick with Raziel.  Raziel is in no mood to hear it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terms of Engagement

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of explanation: this was originally written for a long-running crossover RPG called Multiverse Haven (now sadly defunct). The basic premise of the game was that characters had been pulled from multiple worlds and marked as Chosen, in order to eventually restore a dying multiverse. There may be occasional references to characters, magic systems and some borrowed vampire terminology from other canon sources.

Stepping outside was a breath of fresh air in more ways than one. Kain tilted his head back to the blank darkness of Haven’s night sky, recalling the kaleidoscope whorls of galaxies and stars visible in Nosgoth’s heavens. Glancing to Raziel, Kain was struck by sense memories -- the unstoppable tumble as a winged body was caught up in the blast of a Hylden’s staff, the distant crunch as fragile wings impacted the roof of the foundry. Raziel was numinous in the moonlight, still streaked with black blood, his armor a mirrored glow.

The elder also smelled of the demon's touch, and even if Kain had been present while the scent was being imprinted, it made him suddenly, irrationally furious. “Raziel,” Kain said, and his voice was a harsh sound, grating. “The night of the ambush, in Meridian....”

Raziel, for his part, had been lulled into a false sense of contentment by the potent demon blood and the aches left behind from a body well-pleasured. Stepping out into the night air, he also looked upward, following Kain's gaze, but thought little of it, long-inured to the blankness of Haven's skies. Thus it was that Kain's sudden anger--and it could be nothing else, for Raziel knew his sire that well, at least--caught him by surprise.

Some of his lassitude dropped away as he turned to face Kain. Was he now to face Kain's judgment for his failures? He curbed his first instinct, which was to bristle at being so chided by a fledgling, but a new tension sparked in the air between them. "You remember it, then?" Raziel said, guarded and wary.

“Quite sufficiently,” Kain stated. He was aware, of course, that a different amount of time had passed for him than for the rest of Haven’s residents. Indeed, orchestrating that time differential had been in part an idea gleaned from Kain himself; one that permitted the Hylden to make their assault upon Haven far more quickly than the Powers could respond. But even still, Raziel’d had months to heal, and his wings yet remained injured -- their motions a fraction less smooth than Kain remembered. For how long had the elder been earthbound, and at the mercy of further Hylden ambushes? All of it could have been avoided, if only Raziel had flown when he’d had the chance. “Your conduct was intolerable.” Kain said, flatly.

Despite his best efforts, Raziel's hackles rose. Controlling his temper with an effort of will, he did not lash out. "You blame me for your capture." It was not a question. "I ... would have taken your place, Kain, given the chance." There was nothing else he could say to excuse himself. It had been his misjudgment that had led them into disaster, pure and simple.

“What?” Kain was momentarily taken aback. “Don’t be simple. I blame the Hylden for my capture.” Though granted, next time he might not attack them while under the influence of the change.... “And this game would have played out long ere now if they’d taken you captive.” Why that was, precisely, Kain could not be certain. But as much as the Hylden hated him, for his role in the guardianship of the pillars, they hated Raziel far more. Kain was aware he’d only been left alive as a means to entrap the elder.

Reaching out, Kain seized the center clasp of Raziel’s armor, dragging him close. Kain was faster now, stronger than before. “I blame you for endangering yourself, past reason or sense.”

"Endangering myself?" Raziel echoed, confusion and anger coalescing into a new, still-unnamed emotion. Kain's new strength was evident--but he still had long centuries ahead of him before he would reach the puissance of his elder self, or to match Raziel's own. "We were embattled, Kain--ambushed. You were in as much danger as I--more, some would say, given the outcome."

“There were a number of opportunities for your retreat,” Kain snarled. “Instead, you remained and took grievous injury. By the dark gods, Raziel, you are _still_ wounded.” Roughly, Kain pushed Raziel face first up against the nearby wall, pinning him. “Where did they....” but this close, Kain could see where the fragile wings had been snapped, where the tissue was still swollen around the breaks. Carefully, he closed his hand around one of the worst places of injury.

Kain's hand touched his wing--and Raziel flinched from the memory of pain. In that same instant, all of the frustration Raziel felt in those long dark days of Kain's capture, all his impotent anger at the Hylden, at the Powers, and at himself--it all boiled over into a sudden and rare kind of fury.

Raziel wheeled, ripping his wing from Kain's grasp, heedless of the harm it might cause. He shoved backwards, breaking the younger vampire's hold, and was on him in an instant, lifting Kain bodily with the greater strength and speed he had never truly used against his fledgling sire. He slammed Kain against an adjoining wall hard enough to crack the bricks, his taloned grip carving great rents in the leather armor.

"You, of all creatures--you are chastising me for DEFENDING you?" Raziel hissed, eyes blazing. Fear and anger--they had become so intertwined that he could hardly tell the difference. "What will it take to pound this into your head, Kain? You are the last Pillar Guardian. More importantly the Last. And. Only. Vampire. In. Existence!" Each word was punctuated by another shove against the wall, brick dust raining about them both. "NOTHING I do will mean aught if you do not survive!"

Raziel was frighteningly fast, as if he somehow did not pass through all the points ‘twixt one location and another, but rather vanished and reappeared in a blur. The impact was like being swept up in a mountain slide, and something in the back of Kain’s mind was cognizant that Raziel could have thrust him _through_ the brick wall just as easily....

...and he did not care. “Not the last,” Kain hissed, though the words came out as a breathless growl. _“Your bloodline prevails.”_ Drawing his knees up, Kain kicked out, braced by the wall, both boots striking squarely in the center of Raziel’s chest. The move afforded him just enough room to shove away from the wall, lunging for the elder’s throat.

Raziel met the lunge with an aggravated growl and a brutal backhand, an armored fist smashing into Kain with bone-crushing force, sending the younger vampire flying backwards, out into the street. "How can you be this blind?" he demanded, incensed beyond all caution. "My time is *your* future. *Think*, Kain! My bloodline depends upon *yours* for survival!"

The blow struck hard with a crunch of breaking cartilage. But Kain never hit the ground. His body vanished in a thick swirl of mist, abruptly reversing direction and momentum. The mist surrounded Raziel. _The Hylden believe the fate of the world hangs upon your continued existence._ The mind-whisper was fed along that strange, tattered strand of connection Kain and Raziel shared. _They would do anything to end it!_ The attack came as Kain’s body reformed out of the mist, an apparently straightforward punch at Raziel’s face -- proven to be a feint, as Kain darted to the side and kicked at the back of Raziel’s knee.

The punch was blocked reflexively--the kick connected. It did not have quite the effect Kain intended, however. The knee collapsed--but Raziel dropped with it, turning what should have been an ungainly fall into a leg-sweep as his other foot scythed out and caught Kain at the ankles.

"Of course they do. And you should be grateful they did not realize their lack of true understanding, or there would have been nothing left of you to liberate from them!" Fear again--fear of what so easily could have been. How close they had come to losing Kain, and dooming all of Nosgoth ...

No matter how the elder argued it, Kain knew how deep the timestream ran. No matter how Raziel’s past had depended upon Kain’s own monstrous progeny in the past, the timestream would find a way around Kain’s absence. If the Hylden had gotten their hands on Raziel, though, if they... his fragmented mind shied from probing that possibility.

“You... oomph!” The breath was blasted from Kain’s lungs as he hit the ground flat on his back, both legs swept out from under him. Fortunately, he needed no breath, and launched himself back at Raziel, scrabbling to pin the other in a head-lock. “You have no idea what they would have done to you,” he hissed.

"It. Does. Not. MATTER." Raziel snapped back, well and truly annoyed at Kain's pigheadedness. Despite Kain's best efforts, he rose to his feet, the younger vampire dangling with arms wrapped around his neck like an importunate child. A single step, and he rolled forward, throwing Kain over his shoulder with an effortless heave and slamming him to the ground once more. "By all the bloody hells, Kain," he said, seething. "Do you always intend to reward loyalty thus?"

“And you are not listening,” Kain seethed, rolling to his feet. “The history you had with me is immaterial. My death could, at worst, terminate my timeline; yours would bring an end to _all_ of them.” Kain stalked forward and seized the clasp of Raziel’s armor, dragging the elder close to snarl in his face. “If your loyalty bids you endanger yourself thoughtlessly, then perhaps it is misplaced.”

Raziel growled wordlessly--and lunged. Catching Kain in mid-step, Raziel slammed him backwards with the full weight of his body--then pinned him there, talons hard at the other vampire's throat. Young as Kain was, he would still undoubtedly heal if Raziel ripped out his throat--but it would not be easy, nor pleasant.

"Listen well, Kain, and engrave this upon your memory, if you can," he hissed, their faces bare inches apart. "Our fates are inextricably linked. Should one of us fall, nothing will avert the fate others have designed for us. You are both pawn and king, Kain--do *not* chastise me for my actions until you truly comprehend your place on the board!" The irony of these words, said to the maddening creature who had played *him* as a pawn, more than once ...

“One... _legion_ ,” Kain managed to wheeze, through half-crushed throat. In all honesty, it did not matter -- the world and everything in it could go hang if doing so kept Raziel safe. Why couldn’t the elder see that? Furious, disregarding the serrated edges of the talons at his throat, Kain swung a heavy fist at Raziel’s head, and in the same moment, drove a knee into his groin.

Kain's gauntleted fist smashed into his temple as Raziel reflexively blocked the strike to his groin; however, it did little except make him shake away the stinging ache and growl in aggravation. His grip tightened--then, before he could succumb to temptation and gut Kain then and there, he flung him away bodily, with enough force to send the younger vampire flying across the street and crashing into a pile of debris around a half-built tower.

Being flung by the throat was a rough business, even for a vampire. Disoriented and bruised, Kain could not quite revert to mistform soon enough to avoid splintering through a pile of two-by-fours. The impact left him dazed for several moments. But he realized quickly enough that the vast bank of Raziel’s aura was approaching. Kain rolled awkwardly to his feet with a snarl. Rather than risk a swipe at the elder now, Kain leapt quickly for the webwork of steel girders overhead, trying to gain space enough to clear his head and mount an attack.

Raziel knew Kain well--far too well to think the younger vampire was retreating. Kain was hardly one to give up so easily. Knowing the fledgling was looking for a new avenue of attack, Raziel took to the air, wings beating as he searched for a distinctive flash of pale hair or the spark of Kain's unmistakeable aura, growling softly to himself.

The building was in a middling state of construction. It had been destroyed over the past months, either by starfall or by Hylden, and had been stripped to the girders by placeholder construction workers. The middle was largely open space, where the ductwork and elevators would eventually go, leaving a shaft of air open to the sky that extended upwards some fifteen stories. Along the edges, some roughing-in had been done; rooms and hallways blocked out by plywood and insulation.

In tight confines like this, longer weapons could be worse than useless -- could become stuck in wood or broken on metal. The assault came quickly, with bare claws extended. Kain launched himself out of the darkness with a hard kick, trying to catch Raziel midair, as a viper might a bird.

Raziel caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye as Kain leaped--but the younger vampire had timed his attack well.

"Bloody--!" Raziel had only time enough to wheel, backwinging, before he was caught about the midsection, talons scrabbling at his skin. Unfortunately for Kain, the rest of the attack did not quite go as planned: instead of being borne to the ground underneath Kain's weight, Raziel's wings beat heavily in the air, supporting them both. And Raziel himself was far more used to midair combat now, thanks to the makaar, and Dante's demon. Using the his attacker's momentum, he spun them both about, blocking talons from his throat and eyes and retaliating with a snake-quick strike of his own, rending armor like it was tissue and carving great rents across Kain's throat and chest.

The wounds were gaping and deep, but if Raziel had expected the shock of them to drop Kain from his hold, he was mistaken. Nearly unseated by the rapid, midair spin, Kain managed to clasp his knees around Raziel’s hips. Blood showered down, spattering over the building’s bones, but Kain had just enough leverage to snap a closed gauntlet into Raziel’s face.

The brutal punch to the face would have been enough to splinter teeth and pulp the nose--if Raziel were human. As it was, it left a red mark that healed almost as swiftly as it came, leaving Raziel to glare fiercely at the struggling Kain. "You aggravating wretch--what precisely are you trying to prove?" he demanded of the intemperate fledgling; then retaliated with a punch of his own--pulling it enough so that he did not actually crush his sire's skull.

That loosened Kain’s grasp. Indeed, the punch flung him bodily away. His precipitous descent was halted by the thick array of steel girders -- Kain struck one, then caught it, swinging himself up, albeit more than a little bruised for the encounter. The deep wounds across chest and throat had ceased to bleed and were beginning to heal -- Kain was still relatively fresh. The broken nose and impacted sinus cavities might take a little longer. He spat a mouthful of blood, and gathered himself for another assault. “Clearly you should not be permitted to imperil yourself, if that is the best you can mete out,” he growled roughly, enraged beyond sense.

"Enough!" Raziel barked, finally losing the last dram of his patience. Kain wished lessoning, did he? If so, then Raziel would oblige him!

Faster than thought, Raziel flung out a hand--and released a telekinetic bolt that not only flung Kain backwards, but shook the building, metal beams groaning from the impact. He did not give Kain time to recover; folding his wings, he dived downward, striking Kain again as he struggled to rise and sending him careening backwards through thin plasterboard and wood barricades. Raziel followed the trail of destruction, advancing implacably, looking very much like a demon himself through the dust and the haze of their makeshift battlefield.

The dust had grown thick enough to provide ample cover, Kain noted distantly, as he gasped to draw back the breath that had been blasted from his lungs by the impacts. As Raziel paced through the ruin, Kain struggled to his feet and released a force-bolt of his own, smaller, but clearly aimed above Raziel’s head, as if to strike something and cause it to fall. In the same instant, Kain vanished in a thick roll of fog.

The feint was two-fold. There was nothing above Raziel, save for a beam or two that Kain’s small ball of force could certainly not move. But rather than appear beside Raziel as expected, Kain forced his swirling, gaseous form higher through the dust and manifested above the elder.  
Kain's mist form was just as annoying to battle against as Raziel had remembered. There were other, more lethal means he could have used to combat it--the wraithblade primary among them. But lessoning Kain, not killing him, was his aim.

Ducking low as the bolt rattled the beams above him, one hand scooped up a stray length of pipe as Raziel continued the motion, orienting on Kain's aura through the dust. As the younger vampire dropped, Raziel brought his makeshift club up and slammed it hard into Kain's side.

Kain had but a moment to coalesce into physical shape, already bringing his claws up to strike, when Raziel _moved_. The length of pipe caught his heavy, falling body in the side, and the force of the blow impelled him hard into the ground -- and with a thunderous crack -- through the thin plywood flooring. Kain tumbled some two stories, his descent halted abruptly by a thick metal girder.

Catching himself before he could slide off, Kain climbed shakily to his feet, hissing to himself in fury. Cracked ribs or no, Kain drove his talons into a nearby vertical metal beam, indenting the solid steel, and began to climb upwards.

What Kain had forgotten in the heat of the moment, however, was that Raziel hardly needed to climb down.

Raziel's winged form emerged out of the darkness above very much like the bat so many had called him, diving downward with wings folded. He swept Kain off his makeshift perch without ever slowing down, slamming an arm across the vampire's throat and into a makeshift headlock, so that they *both* crashed into metal catwalk at full speed.

The solid steel frame groaned alarmingly as they crashed into it, flattening one section of the handrails. They tumbled over the metal flooring, limbs flailing out over the precipitous drop, snarling and thrashing. The bolts anchoring the catwalk to the wall squealed with the strain of supporting two angry vampires. When the pair of them came to a halt, Kain was pinned under Raziel. Fangs snapping, Kain lunged up, drove a knee into Raziel’s side, and attempted to slither free.

Raziel was growling, a continuous rumble low in the throat, as he fought to restrain the younger vampire, heedless of the fragile nature of their support. The knee to his ribs was barely worth consideration. He punched an elbow into Kain's face to occupy those snapping fangs, and buried talons deep into one shoulder, punching them through armor and flesh alike and pinning him to the metal mesh beneath.

"Enough! I did not fight to free you only to have you kill yourself in a fit of temper!" he snapped at his opponent.

That low, throttle-bass growl of aggravation -- so similar to the snarl that Vorador had sometimes voiced -- should have been a warning enough. But it was the sudden, shearing pain of talons scraping bone that finally cleared Kain’s mind, even as it made him choke with the hurt. Long-buried instincts stirred -- the argument and Kain’s position did not matter; what did was that he, nearly a fledgling, had instigated a dominance fight with a far more powerful elder. Shuddering, his body eased under Raziel’s weight. For a moment, Kain tilted his head back, just a little, exposing the soft wound-crossed flesh of his throat....

But something about Raziel’s words sparked a neural pathway. Memory dropped into Kain’s mind, a bit here, a piece there. “You went back to Nosgoth,” Kain growled, tucking his chin down. “For me. You put yourself in _their_ hands, for... damnation, Raziel!

"I did," Raziel affirmed, eyes blazing, unmoved. "And I would do so again, if needs be." There was still the thread of a growl in his voice. "I know my importance, Kain--and I know *yours*. If you trust nothing else that I have said ... trust in *that*, at least."

Kain snarled up, focusing on the magic to dissolve his form into thick mist. It was far more difficult like this, with thick talons impaled through his shoulder, but given enough time....

The Hylden had laid a perfect trap, then, to force Raziel into their hands -- a trap so well baited Kain could have laid it himself. For all he knew... he might have. The dark gods only knew what the Hylden had learned from him. “I believe you,” Kain started. Trust Raziel? There was no creature in all of existence he trusted more. “I simply do not care.”

Raziel gave another aggravated growl at the stubborn answer. "You are a damnably obstinate creature, Kain. What was I supposed to do? Leave you to the Hylden's tender mercies?" He withdrew his talons from Kain's shoulder, transferring his grip to an unwounded arm. "I do not require your approval--" _Not anymore._ "--and I stand by my actions. My ... incapacity did this to you. I should have been there sooner."

Kain’s body trembled a little as the thick, serrated talons were withdrawn from his flesh. “Supposed to do?” he growled. “You could have waited until the Hylden moved their forces and myself here, then cut them off with pawns and retrieved me at your leisure, among other possibilities. And as for time...” Kain shook his head slightly. “The Hylden utilized the amulet, and its link to Haven, to tamper with the timestream differentials. There was no way to arrive sooner.” Kain drew a breath to spit an insult, to continue the fight... then his brows drew together. “What incapacity?”

For the first time, Raziel looked troubled and ... a bit shamed. "My wounds were not grievous, but ... I was not--aware, when I returned to Haven. I did not know you had been taken. Some days passed before my senses returned, and even then ... I did not think to seek you out." His free hand fisted a bit, talons biting into Kain's leather breastplate. Raziel knew how inadequate his words sounded. Even now, he could not explain the strange malaise that had overtaken him, even as his body had healed. "I cannot excuse it; that one of the Powers had to tell me of your capture."

Kain froze, his sudden frission of unease having nothing to do with Raziel’s gore-covered talons that so easily rent asunder the thick boiled leather of his armor. He swallowed, keeping quite still, giving his wounds as much time as possible to heal -- he might have to move very quickly, after all. He spoke slowly. “I believe I can.” Excuse it, that was. “It is... likely that I caused it.”

Raziel frowned. "I do not understand." Kain had not attacked him; had been singlemindedly focused upon the Hylden in fact, to his own detriment.

“I left the Reaver with you,” Kain said. He recalled the confusion of those seconds comparatively clearly, now recognizing the disorientation for the onset of the time of change. “Or rather, attempted to.” It was possible, after all, that though he’d managed to open Raziel’s dimensional pocket from a distance, something could have gone wrong once he’d sundered the elder’s amulet. If it had, if the Reaver were between the dimensions, somewhere.... “The magic I employed to do so was... hasty in execution, and not, I fear, particularly... kind.”

"You--" Raziel stopped short, as suddenly a great many things became plain. He had wondered how the Reaver had come to him, though he had avoided using it in battle, or indeed even touching it. Kain had somehow--ripped away his magic, and used it for his own purposes. There was a flare of fury at the thought--fury that was soon followed by a sudden bout of wry humor as Raziel realized the truth of the matter.

"Kain ..." He couldn't help it--he snorted, then began to chuckle, shaking his head. How typical of his sire! Use any tool within his grasp, ruthlessly and without hesitation ... it seemed that fledgling or not, Kain would still always and ever be Kain, his arrogant and devious sire.

Kain lay looking up, his eyes a little narrowed as he tried to determine -- was that a murderous chuckle? A diabolical one? It certainly did not seem to be malevolent. How in the world, though, could Raziel take amusement from what was essentially a betrayal? Oh, Kain knew his act had been necessary to save the Reaver, and perhaps Raziel as well, from Hylden hands, but nevertheless...

Unable to quite understand it, Kain waited for the elder’s mirth to run its course. “I admit, I did expect to be able to request the Reaver’s return under more... favorable circumstances,” Kain conceded. Most circumstances would be more favorable than directly after it had been very thoroughly proven to Kain -- once again -- that crossing Raziel in combat was... inadvisable.

Raziel's chuckles faded away, though an edge of sardonic amusement still remained. He straightened, releasing his grip on the younger vampire, though not moving from his position astride Kain's waist. "You are not asking from a position of strength, to be sure," he agreed with deceptive mildness. "I trust you *will* instruct me on how to avoid future such attacks?"

Kain considered the question seriously, drawing a deep breath as Raziel knelt up. Kain’s ability to co-opt Raziel’s power, however briefly, had been of very great use. He could agree, and then fail to teach Raziel sufficiently or effectively.... But then, if Kain could implement such an exploit, then so too could Raziel’s enemies. And that was simply unacceptable. “Yes,” Kain said. “I will.”

"Good." In truth, it had not been a request so much as a demand--and if Kain had refused to teach him, Raziel would simply have found a way on his own. Kain's agreement, however, made things infinitely easier.

Gazing down on his sire's prone form, Raziel saw the healing wounds, the minor differences in appearance. He ran a palm down one outflung arm, learning the subtle changes in muscle and bone that had occurred with an expert eye. "Regardless of who is at fault," he murmured, "My regret remains--you should not have been unguarded for the Change."

The differences were ones typical of a fledgling’s first Time of Change, and the alterations were familiar under Raziel’s hand. Kain’s skin had a very faint streaky texture to it -- the earliest beginnings of dermal armor. His bones were thicker and perhaps strangely jointed, and the architecture of his musculature had changed in places, both of which laid the groundwork for the development of far, far greater physical prowess in the centuries-distant future. And Kain’s nails were thicker, longer, and black -- an important mark of distinction between neonates and fledglings in the days of the Empire. Save for the claws, none of the changes were immediately evident, except on close inspection.

Kain snorted softly, even as he luxuriated in the stroke of Raziel’s talons, turning his wrist up to facilitate the inspection. “Believe you me, I would rather have remained with you, as well.” Which was, of course, a very great understatement. Kain growled a little, shaking away the sudden wash of unidentifiable emotion. Anger was better, simpler. “Even still, staying as long as you did, returning for me -- both were injudicious at best.”

Raziel snorted. "You stand little chance of convincing me of that, Kain--best to give it up." After all, what were mere words against the obedience and loyalty that Kain himself had ingrained over two thousand years? Reaching the younger vampire's palm, he lifted it up, turning it over to look at the new ebony claws--tapping a talon against their glossy surfaces.

Kain snarled, struggling to sit up, though he made no move to draw his hand from Raziel’s grasp. “You must needs be more _cautious_ , Raziel! Yours were a madman’s risks.” Indeed, the elder had behaved as if he had nothing left to lose....

"If I am mad, then it is *you* who has made me thus," Raziel retorted, his grip tightening. Driven to the Abyss and beyond--what was a little madness compared to that? He made no effort to move and allow Kain to rise. It was an oddity to be able to overpower his sire so easily--but Raziel had grown used to the disparity in their strengths, and indeed ... sometimes secretly enjoyed it.

Oblivious to the depth of meaning in those words, Kain growled back. Raziel had hold of his unwounded left arm -- it would be difficult to cuff the other vampire properly so long as his right shoulder was still healing. “I driven _you_ mad?” Kain demanded, giving a writhing twist, trying to slither his hips out from under Raziel’s weight. “’Twill be quite the other way around, I assure you. Unhand me!”

"No, I think not." Raziel shoved Kain backwards with easy strength as the younger vampire tried to lunge upwards. Amusement had faded to a certain--speculative look, as he looked down on his erstwhile captive. "This is a somewhat unique position--and I rather think I'm enjoying it."

“Oomph!” Kain hit the metal mesh hard enough to rattle it and drive the breath from his lungs. Fuming, he glared up at Raziel. Then deliberately bared his fangs... and vanished. Thick mist dissipated out from between Raziel’s talons, cascading though the metal catwalk mesh and over the side. But the bank of fog didn’t go far -- midair, Kain rematerialized, good hand lashing out to catch the catwalk handrail. Using that leverage, Kain catapulted himself back at Raziel -- both boots leading the way.

The sudden reappearance of Kain's mistform was hardly unexpected--and easy enough to track when one knew what to look for. Raziel sat back on his heels, sighing with a certain amount of aggravation--and caught Kain by the ankle as the younger vampire reformed, twisting the leg brutally. With a hard yank, he tossed the other vampire to one side like a ragdoll.

Only the fact that he was both airborne and quite flexible prevented Kain from suffering a rather debilitating hip dislocation. As it was, he smashed into the mesh flooring hard, then crashed through a section of handrail as Raziel tossed him with effortless strength. Midfall, Kain twisted, unleashing a volley of tight-packed little bolts of telekinetic energy -- not at Raziel, but rather at the weakened bolts that held the catwalk to the frame of girders. Kain smashed through a roughed-out wall, sending chunks of foam insulation flying, and tumbled to a halt upon a flooring of two-by-fours.... just in time to watch the entire catwalk break free and crash down into the jungle of metal beams below with a screeching howl.

Raziel rose to a crouch as the telekinetic bolts hit and the catwalk began to sag. Then he leaped into the air as it fell away beneath him, wings sweeping outward. The damage already done by their battle had at least one side benefit--many of the metal girders and other structures that otherwise might have impeded Raziel's flight were now gone--dangling downward or simply torn away. "Pestilential wretch," he growled to himself, as he tucked wings and dove downward, towards the area where Kain had fallen. Any other fledgling would have given up long before now. How utterly typical of Kain to be stubborn, even in this!

Kain snarled to himself as Raziel floated well-clear of the debris. The squeal and roar of falling metal continued as chunks of the catwalk clattered off supporting girders. Using the cover of the wooden construction, Kain began making his way upwards as rapidly as possible, leaping between levels. As Raziel streaked downwards, headed for the place Kain had fallen, he darted out to the end of a beam and launched himself at Raziel from above.

Of all the attributes Raziel had attained over the years, eyes in the back of his head was not yet one of them. Kain's ambush worked perfectly; Raziel gave out an abortive cry of surprise as Kain's weight slammed into him from above, knocking him out of the air and fouling his wings. What was worse was that Kain now had perfect access to his wings--appendages that were far more fragile than the rest of Raziel's armored frame. A sudden and instinctive fear made Raziel twist, snarling and wild-eyed, as he did his best to tear off his attacker.

Raziel’s strength and speed made the grapple a poor contest and one swiftly settled -- which was perhaps just as well, given the rapidity with which they were spiraling towards the concrete base floor of the tower. The elder’s claws punched through leather armor and flesh, grating across bone. With a startled, pained shout, Kain was swung about and tossed into empty air by that grip hooked under the base of his ribcage.

Raziel himself did not have much time celebrate his brief victory--ripping Kain from his back had taken precious seconds, and now he paid the price, careening into a steel beam. Instinctively he tucked his wings tight, armored forearms up to cover his face as he rebounded from the beam and dropped that final open space to the concrete floor, ripping through loose cabling and ductwork and bringing them all down with him in a ear-shattering crash.

For his part, Kain managed to avoid crashing into anything during his fall. But the agony of the fresh wound prevented him from concentrating enough to revert to mist form, and his landing was... inelegant. He hit the base floor hard, skidding limply into a tangle of fallen steel girders, leaving a smear of bright arterial blood. Bruised and scraped, armor a tattered and gory mess, head ringing from the noise, it took Kain several moments to roll slowly and unsteadily to his hands and knees. Upon beginning to gingerly draw a breath, Kain discovered that one of his lungs had been punctured, which was damnably inconvenient, and also hurt. Pressing a hand over the talon-wound under his ribcage to keep it from sucking, Kain gulped a shallow breath. “Yield,” he ordered, able to summon little more than a whisper.

Kain's answer came soon enough as a rumbling growl that echoed through the empty expanse of the building. The pile of debris shuddered and then fell away as Raziel rose, shaking off the makeshift garlands of cabling that draped over his head and shoulders. Dusty, disheveled, and more than a little annoyed--Raziel appeared otherwise unwounded, minor cuts healing with visible speed as he stepped out of the crater of buckled concrete that marked his landing.

"I think not."

Oh, bloody hell. The elder vampire’s irritated growl was a thunder inside Kain’s bones and across his skin, somehow deep with sub-audible layers. The sound called upon every instinct imparted to Kain as a newly-made vampire, urging him to surrender immediately. With a bloody-mouthed snarl, Kain set to pushing himself determinately to his feet -- perhaps if he tried blinding Raziel with an orb of light, he could turn the tables and....

Unhampered by injury, Raziel did not wait for Kain to attain his feet once more. He lunged--sweeping Kain up with a brutal taloned strike to his already-injured midsection and thrusting him through the thin plywood wall at his back. Splinters flew as the two struggling vampires crashed through the flimsy barrier; then Kain was slammed to the concrete once more, Raziel dropping with him and pinning his wrists hard against the ground.

"Idiot fledgling," he growled, then leaned forward, and deliberately sank fangs into Kain's neck, drinking deep. Proving once and for all that he would take what he willed, regardless of Kain's wishes....

Neither crashing through the wall, nor the bodyslam to the ground impeded Kain’s furiously snarling struggles. But the fangs driven deep into his throat rendered his body limp, one muscle at a time. The elder could bite out his throat in an instant, long before Kain -- by now rather dazed -- could focus enough to cause his body to dissipate into mist. The implicit threat wasn’t the only thing keeping Kain still, however. From the wound seemed to spread a curious warmth, and a strange and mostly-unidentifiable tangle of emotions. Kain moved, half-unconsciously and just very slightly -- subtly lifting his chin to offer Raziel better access.

Raziel gave an approving murmur at the action, and continued to drink deep, luxuriating in the power of his sire’s blood. His grip did not lighten, but his bite gentled somewhat, wings mantling over them both; and after a moment, he withdrew fangs, pressing lips to the bloody wound and lapping at stray crimson rivulets with single-minded devotion.

With the long teeth withdrawn, the wounds began to seal over, the flow of blood ebbing. Kain turned his head a little more, relishing the painful pleasure of Raziel’s tongue over his throat.

Distantly, some stray piece of wood clattered to the floor. Kain’s eyes slid open -- he couldn’t he certain when he had closed them. With a small snarl, Kain tensed and wriggled, trying to free his wrists from the elder’s tight grip.

Raziel gave a low rumble of warning, teeth pricking at Kain's throat once more--then shifted, and pressed bloody lips on Kain's in a fierce and devouring kiss. Armor creaked as Raziel released one of the younger vampire's wrists--only to card talons through silver-pale hair, knotting it in a fisted grip that allowed no retreat.

Kain hissed a little, started, as his head was forced still -- and then gasped as Raziel’s mouth sealed over his. The notion of biting at the tongue that slicked into his mouth never occurred to him -- Kain returned the kiss intently, tasting his own blood both from Raziel’s bite and from shallow scrapes opened when his tongue encountered Raziel’s fangs.

His right wrist was free, Kain realized distantly, belatedly. He flexed his claws... then, slowly, stroked down Raziel’s bare side, feeling the plates of armor beneath the skin there, the texture enthralling for its familiarity.

"Yes ..." Raziel murmured against that mouth, arching slightly into Kain's touch. He let go of Kain's other arm--only to roughly rip away the younger vampire's breastplate, snapping ragged clasps and rending it from the pale flesh he sought. Bloodied and besmirched Kain might be, but it did not diminish his beauty one whit, and Raziel ran a possessive and calloused palm down the heaving stomach, enjoying the slickness of blood over velvet-smooth skin.

Kain tried to follow Raziel’s mouth up, growling a little as his ascent was halted by the hand in his hair, so that he could only just brush Raziel’s lips with his own. The stroking motion became more urgent, Kain’s fingers pressing hard into armored skin as he scrabbled for the catches of Raziel’s armor. Kain could not stop himself from pressing up into the rough palm that scraped and slipped down his bare chest and stomach... and that twisting motion gave him just enough room to free one leg. Weakened and no doubt slowed from bloodloss, Kain wrapped his booted calf over Raziel’s hip and did his best to flip their bodies over.

For once, however, Raziel did not feel inclined to submit to his sire. The remnants of his earlier fear and fury remained--and it was they that spurred him on. Raziel resisted Kain's play for dominance with an easy strength, solid and immovable--and smoothed his hand down even further, ripping away cloth and armor alike. Kain's wakening flesh leaped into his palm, and Raziel purred in approval, folding his hand carefully over it. "No--you shall not have it so easy this time, Kain," he growled, stroking roughly. "There is still a lesson or two left to learn."

“You’re...!” but the protest, whatever it might have been, was smothered in a gasp. The palm of Raziel’s hand -- textured with those chevron-patterned ridges, as if his hand had been specifically designed to afford Raziel extraordinary grip -- was shockingly pleasurable, each small calloused crest seeming to catch exquisitely upon the soft skin of Kain’s cock. Knowing how close his organ was to the razored, serrated edges of those talons was its own kind of breathless thrill. “Ah!” Kain’s claws dug hard into Raziel’s sides, drawing faint lines of near-black blood.

Raziel smiled, dark and knowing, giving the fragile flesh in his grasp slow strokes. It was a thrilling rush, to be able to wring such helpless and pleasured noises from his sire, to treat him just as he would any other lesser vampire ... and even the small voice that wondered if Kain would somehow return the favor in kind, in time, did not keep him from giving in to the temptation. "Such dulcet tones ... are they pleas for more, Kain? Perhaps you also secretly need to be filled and mastered ..."

“I... ah! ...More. Please!” Kain gasped, torn between pushing his hips up into Raziel’s hand and the knowledge that one slip could lead to a very... unpleasant unmanning. The result was little twitching thrusts, a rippling undulation as Kain could simply not keep still. The word ‘mastered’ dropped from Raziel’s lips, and Kain grit his teeth, snarling even through the pleasure, and tried to sit up -- only to find himself still held by the hair. He had... had to... Kain’s talon-torn right shoulder ached as he reached further, dragging his clawtips up from the base of Raziel’s spine... until he found the plates of bone at the juncture of Raziel’s wings. Delicately, Kain slid his fingertips there, stroking the suede-soft, rarely-exposed skin beneath.

Those clever fingers hit the spot Kain was looking for, and Raziel hissed and shuddered in reaction, bucking upward into them. "K-Kain! Clever wretch ..." His hand tightened briefly around Kain's erection--to the edge of pain, as both punishment and caress. Then, releasing his grip, he tore at the fastenings of his own breeches, freeing his own weeping cock to rub hard against Kain's own, his hand cradling them both.

That sudden tightness made Kain gasp, fingers abruptly stilled. He shuddered as Raziel released him and, sensing advantage, firmed the pressure of his fingertips, refamiliarizing himself with the nuances of that sensitive place at the base of Raziel’s wings. There were the little stabilizing muscles that vibrated with tension, there the tender divot between tendons. Kain closed his left hand -- stained with traces of Raziel’s vitae and plenty of his own -- over their paired organs, stroking. The contrast in texture, between Raziel’s hand and his own, was exquisite. A low, rumbling croon built in his chest.

Raziel allowed the liberties, letting Kain slip his hand downward; he cupped his larger talons around it, stroking their twinned flesh and thrusting minutely upward. Kain's croon was answered by a low, satisfied rumble in Raziel's own chest as they found a rhythm and rocked together, moist flesh and slickened fingers sliding against each other.

It was nigh impossible to drag his eyes away from that sight--but Raziel wanted more. He bowed down over Kain's prone body, lapping at a blood-smeared nipple--then setting his teeth into that skin in a possessive bite.

 _“Raziel...”_ Kain breathed, arching up into the bite, to the limit allowed by the restriction at head and groin. The sudden flash of pain at one dusky nipple was delectable, though the marks of Raziel’s fangs remained inscribed in his flesh, healing only slowly. The soft pad of Kain’s thumb swirled over the heads of both cocks, spreading precome. The center of one of the elder’s thick talons brushed over the tip of his cock, the ridges catching and evoking a shuddering groan of intense pleasure. Kain could feel his testicles draw up as he neared orgasm, unable to exercise control in the face of such dangerous bliss.

Raziel knew the signs, could tell Kain was nearing the edge--and drew away, leaving the younger vampire trembling on the precipice. "Not yet, I think ..." he growled, disentangling their hands and moving his cock lower, until it rubbed slickly against curve of Kain's rear. Raziel was not inclined to give Kain any time to debate the matter--not when they both were so close to the edge. Gathering what precome he could, he rubbed the back of one talon against that hidden opening--then, lifting Kain's hips, he surged forward, sheathing himself in one savage thrust.

There was an instant’s shocked silence, and then Kain erupted in muscular struggle with a roar, fangs snapping. Were he not greatly weakened from bloodloss, Kain might have even momentarily freed himself at the price of parting with a fistful of silver hair, but as it was, he did not go far.

Raziel was thick and Kain’s ass superbly tight. The pain of the violent impalement was piercing, transcending, worsened by Kain’s own struggles and the rippling clench of his body.

He had been expecting such a reaction--fledglings never submitted tamely, not at first, and this was Kain, after all. The younger vampire's furious struggle to free himself was a dose of heaven and hell all in one package; Raziel's cock squeezed tight, that lithed and muscled body bucking beneath him, even as Kain writhed, flailing with claws and fangs. Raziel caught one hand, pinning it by the wrist to the ground--the other clipped his cheekbone, leaving a bleeding gash behind.

"Kain ..." he could not manage much more than that name, growled in warning, as he fought to restrain both his own pleasure and Kain's fury. His other hand moved back downward, and curled around Kain's genitals, talons brushing fragile skin in silent threat.

Kain hissed back, and when the fisted talons left his hair he lunged to snap at Raziel’s throat... and was halted by the careful touch under his testicles. Panting for breath he did not need, Kain reversed direction, trying to writhe away, to draw that thick penetration out of him... only to find that it hurt worse that way -- doubly so as his balls were held in an implacable grip. Slowly, reluctantly, Kain’s leg around Raziel’s hip tightened, forcing his arched body back onto Raziel’s cock, easing the threat of the razor-edged talon that held him.

"Better," Raziel murmured in satisfaction, watching Kain's furious face. As much as every instinct cried out to do otherwise, he held himself still, deep inside Kain, luxuriating in the lingering spasms that squeezed tight, internal muscles fighting his presence. With aching care, he shifted his grip, and began to stroke Kain's softened cock, coaxing it back to full attention.

The effort was an easy one, for Kain’s cock had not much flagged, and it took only a few knowledgeable touches of Raziel’s calloused hand before pleasure began to outweigh pain or anger. Kain’s struggles did not entirely cease, exactly -- he still moved, arching against Raziel’s grasp, clenching against the penetration, testing the limits of his confinement as much as he could without much risking the elder’s wrath. If Raziel remained still for long enough, he could even begin to focus on shape-shif....

A single drop of Raziel’s near black vitae, sweet with power, tumbled from the already-healed gash on his cheek. Unable to stop himself, Kain fisted his free hand in Raziel’s hair and lunged up, fangs gaping, uncaring of the grip on his wrist or the new blood that spilled from his talon-torn shoulder.

Distracted, Raziel did not retreat, and Kain's lips pressed against the lingering redness of the wound, lapping up every last trace of blood. There was hunger as well as desire in those eyes, and almost without thinking, Raziel tilted his head, offering up the softer flesh of his neck in a curiously submissive gesture. Even as he did so, he moved--sliding incrementally deeper into Kain's heat, feeling the shuddery pleasure created by even such a minute thrust.

Kain’s grip on Raziel’s hair eased just slightly. The subtle tilt of the elder’s head -- the offer of the throat -- was strikingly effective placation, Kain realized suddenly, as he laid his lips over the pulse. Was this, then, why... then Raziels’ slight little thrust forced a gasp from him. Kain’s knee over Raziel’s hip tightened, and he bared fangs, slipping them through the tender skin... and into a maelstrom of power.

The prick of Kain's fangs on his throat, the fierce suckling draw, forced a hiss of an indrawn breath from Raziel. The careful restraints he had been holding on his own need began to fall away, and his grip tightened, pulling Kain closer. Raziel moved, rolling his hips in a slow, deep slide, sinking into the sensations created by the joining of flesh against flesh. He had never known this before--had never been allowed this liberty with his sire. The mere thought of it was heady enough, but this--the reality threatened to send him spilling over in an instant.

The slow, sleek roll of Raziel’s hips was answered by a thrust of Kain’s own, arching up and back into the penetration. The motion was perhaps for the most part an unconscious effort to keep Raziel from withdrawing, for any movement hurt -- a sweet, deep burn. But the vast majority of Kain’s concentration was upon the blood that welled around his fangs. Just as well he had taken a relatively cautious bite -- either Raziel had... changed, somehow, since Kain had last drunk from him, or perhaps feeding from Lucifer had simply charged the elder to the limit of his capacity. Raziel’s blood was hot with power, rich beyond measure, the taste cracking over Kain’s senses. Glorious.

Raziel gave a growling purr and thrust again, slow and deep, trying to claim every inch just as much as Kain's hot, sharp bite claimed him. The drain of blood was almost negligible, especially after having feasted so well earlier, and the sensation of his fledgling-sire suckling at the bite was a pleasure that threatened to leave him limp and boneless, utterly submitting to whatever Kain demanded.

Other parts of his anatomy thought differently, however. Loosing Kain's wrist, Raziel clamped hands upon waist and hip and began to move, slow, demanding thrusts, pushing his cock deeper into that soft clenching heat.

Kain groaned softly around his mouthful, but with his hips pinned, he could do little to hinder Raziel -- could only thrust back in slow undulation, as much as he could, to ease the penetration. Wrist free, he reached up and spread his claws across Raziel’s flank, the edges digging in... and then slid his fingers to the bony plate at the juncture of Raziel’s wings instead, feeling the little muscles there jump with the effort of the elder’s ruthless impalement. Each thrust rubbed his own cock against the hard, armored planes of Raziel’s belly, each slow swallow fed the fire at his core.

"Ahh!" Raziel cried out as those sharp fingers unerringly found the sensitive skin at the base of his wings, bucking convulsively. His wings flexed, shivering convulsively under that knowing touch. Losing the last remnants of his control, Raziel thrust deeper, faster, pounding deep into Kain as he clawed his way through the ever-mounting pleasure, his hands stroking downward, slippery with traces of their mingled blood.

Kain was forced to release Raziel’s throat to cry out, the wounds sealing over the moment his fangs left them. Those long, hard strokes hurt -- flesh blood slicking the way -- but they also struck against a singular place within, driving a rising tide of ecstasy that left him gasping and trembling. Torn between struggling to free himself and urging Raziel on, pleading for more, he writhed, caught on the flashpoint.

His neck freed, Raziel rose over Kain--pushing them harder, his face a feral mask. His hands were iron-hard on that writhing body, allowing Kain to retreat only enough so that Raziel could thrust forward once more. His cock was hard and aching as he thrust, the air perfumed with blood and sawdust. Mindless, driven by instinct, Raziel gave one last deep thrust and convulsed with a hoarse shout, pleasure locking him in place deep within Kain's body and filling it with his seed.

That last, hard thrust and the pulse of fluid inside him made Kain roar with the sheer force of sensation, the stimulation pushing him over the edge. His hips jerked, passage clenching as his cock painted both their stomachs in opalescent white.

Everything was silent for a moment, save for Kain’s soft panting for breath. Then he wrapped his free leg around Raziel’s hip, hard, and twisted. He had not the strength to flip them both entirely over, but managed to force them both upon their sides, Raziel still deeply impaled.

Raziel let out a soft grunt as Kain twisted underneath him and dumped them over, and his grip tightened, but otherwise he made no attempt to offer further violence to his sire. His eyes glittered as he watched Kain's face, fever-bright in the aftermath of sex and battle.

"If you are trying to gain my attention, I can assure you that you already have it."

“Hn.” Kain tilted his hips, settling himself as comfortably as possible. His thoughts were difficult to marshal; little aftershocks of blinding pleasure still rippled through him. “I must admit, that was a very fine brawl. Are you as able with bladework?” It seemed, he decided, that Raziel had won their argument. That being the case... Kain was simply going to have to be more clever in circumventing the elder’s propensity for endangering himself.

It seemed that Kain wished to avoid returning to their previous argument--and satiated as Raziel was, he was not minded to argue. Letting a little of his amusement show, he answered, "Only one creature has ever been able to best me with a sword." Of course, that creature had been Kain himself, but best not to mention that. "With other weapons, I make no such claims, but I can wield them with facility." Raziel was no duelist. How he taught Hatsumomo was how he himself had learned to fight on a thousand battlefields--brutal, ugly, and effective, using whatever came to hand.

"Why do you ask?"

Kain bent his head enough to lap languidly at a stray smear of blood that crossed Raziel’s throat. “It would appear, then, that challenging you to further combat might not be a particularly fruitful endeavor,” he said, the corner of his mouth turning very faintly upwards. Ending up like this again, only slashed to ribbons instead of merely thoroughly beaten, was not high on Kain’s list of priorities. Well, not at the moment, in any case.

Raziel snorted in amusement. "Planning your revenge already, Kain?"

“Merely determining how best to carry my point across,” Kain said, with a hint of ironic loftiness. “Perhaps a compromise is in order,” he added reluctantly. While the Hylden were nearby, he could not permit Raziel to remain long unguarded. Kain had once been accustomed to visiting the elder a few times a week -- so strange to recall those habits after such a long interval! But that might mean that Raziel could go missing for days before Kain knew of it. And... his eyes widened. “Are you still inhabiting your eyrie?” He demanded -- so much as was possible to demand, given his present state.

"Only rarely now," Raziel said, with a small trace of regret. "You knew of its location, after all." Which meant it had been entirely likely that the Hylden did as well. It was a harsh thing to think of, but Raziel was not one to trust blindly--especially in time of war.

“Good,” said Kain. The notion of trust did not even cross his mind -- he would have thought Raziel a fool to depend on any creature’s resistance to concerted, experienced, long-term interrogation. Even Kain could not tell for certain what information the Hylden had gleaned -- which moments were Hylden illusion, and which were the mad ravings of his own brain. “If they have not yet razed it, they are likely placing some more devious trap there.”

"Most likely," Raziel mumured. It was a shame to lose the eyrie; there were memories born of that place that he valued. But such were the fortunes of war. He turned his attention back to the present. "I have begun caching weapons and blood glyphs throughout the city--there are no fonts to rely upon here. The Hylden have also begun controlling placeholders and monsters as well, which makes hunting a great deal more dangerous." One placeholder was not a threat, but a hundred were.

“I believe that particular trick of the Hylden can be stymied with some ease -- I will seek out the Robin or the Knight Saber, to do so.” Kain understood very little about the patterns of Haven itself, but he did know a bit about the types of wards that could give the Hylden pause. He would, however, need someone with a far greater mastery of these ‘network’ devices than he could claim. “But for the time being... would you be opposed to hunting together?” The Hylden almost certainly knew of Kain’s own dominion, and if they had not moved against it, they surely would soon. Kain would have to salvage what resources of his erstwhile empire as he could.

"On the contrary, I think it would behoove us both to do so. We are both targets now, even more so than before--there is little sense in inviting ambush or coercion by presenting anything less than a united front," Raziel said carefully. He had intended to watch over Kain regardless, for fear the Hylden might trap the younger vampire once again. Not wishing to prick Kain's pride once again, however, he refrained from saying so.

Kain tightened his grip a little, shifting to tuck his chin against the crown of Raziel’s head, though he managed to refrain from thrumming in satisfaction. The union might be a prickly one, but being able to watch over Raziel would much reassure Kain. And they would surely be more effective together. “Tell me of the defensive steps already taken,” Kain said, then paused. “How fares Gaara?” He most emphatically did not want that particular individual falling to the Hylden -- both because of the strength they could obtain from him, and the potential use of Gaara as bait for Raziel.

Raziel became very still. "He is ... no longer in Haven," he said quietly--very evenly. "The Powers removed him while we were--embattled in Nosgoth, and sent him back to his world."

So close, Kain could feel the tension in Raziel’s frame, could sense it. “The Powers offered no rationale, I take it?”

"They claimed he had fallen into madness. That they'd no recourse but to send him home and wipe his memory of all that occurred here." The answer was colorless and remote.

Kain gave that due consideration. After a moment, he moved to draw Raziel’s cock from his body, exhaling a little at the suddenly empty feel. He sat up with a faint wince, and tucked Raziel’s organ away, tying the broken laces of the elder’s breeches. “You know my favored method of subjugating a populace, when conventional might is insufficient, do you not?” Kain’s own breeches and armor were tattered beyond repair; he set to stripping them off. “One forces a township to accept first a small injustice -- one that they perhaps do not think it worthwhile to fight -- then subsequently larger ones. Before long, the township willingly supplies both men and taxes, and the populace can no longer imagine existing in any other state than as virtual slaves.”

"I am well acquainted with the tactic, yes," Raziel said dryly, sitting up after Kain was done with his ministrations and watching him strip himself bare. "Believe me, I would not stand for such high-handedness on the part of any creature--if I had any choices in the matter. So far, I have found few, and none that were acceptable."

“Choices? Say rather ‘options.’” For having been fucked bloody, Kain found himself in a... remarkable, and lingering, mood. He wanted... wanted to be in contact with Raziel’s skin, wanted to be steeped in that vast black aura of almost unimaginable age... wanted to lay back and spread for it once more. Kain shook himself slightly, and set to rubbing some of the worst of the gore from his hide. He was going to have to find new breeches somewhere. “First, one of the Powers is from Gaara’s world -- Hinata, have you met her? It may be possible to manipulate her into affording us passage, particularly if the Hylden have spread there. Second, the Hylden collect a great deal of information, possibly including records regarding why, and to where, Gaara was returned.”

Raziel contemplated the dried blood on his talons--both Kain's and his own. "To what point or purpose? The Powers removed Gaara's memory of this place, and of any alliances he might have made. Should we go to his world, we would be nothing more than interlopers--monsters to be battled and defeated in the name of his village." Raziel found the prospect of playing the lovelorn swain, staring at the object of his adoration from afar, to be ... distasteful, at best.

“If you believe the Powers’ assurances, then there may be little cause to seek the boy,” Kain said. If the Powers had sent him where they’d claimed, if they’d removed his memories. “Gaara once vowed to go through me, if necessary, to come for you. He did not strike me as the type to take his vows lightly -- whether he consciously remembers them or no. Additionally, the Reaver knew him... and perhaps, he it.” It was clear that Gaara had known that Raziel was to become to devouring essence within the Reaver, but there had been something more there, Kain was all but certain of it.

Raziel stilled at Kain's words. He had known that Gaara had approached Kain, of course, but not what had been said .... As to the rest--he wanted desperately to believe in the possibility, which in and of itself made him wary. Men could delude themselves into a great many errors; he had seen it countless times. The possibility that Gaara might somehow know him, in spite of the Powers' efforts--if he chased it, what other unintended consequences might his actions have?

"I shall think on it," he said finally, tugging at straps and plates of his armor that had been twisted askew by their enthusiastic coupling, using the motion to cover his unease.

Kain nearly reached out to assist with Raziel’s armor, or perhaps just to have an excuse to touch the elder, before remembering himself. Had Raziel employed some manner of drug or magic, or was this aftereffect a product of Kain’s own near-fledgling biology?

But as for the subject at hand... Raziel’s answer would have to do, for now. Aside from the pleasure of metaphorically spitting in the Powers’ eye, Kain wanted -- needed -- to confirm Gaara’s status... or to neutralize him, if necessary. Presently, the boy could clearly be utilized as a weapon against Raziel, or as bait for him. The Hylden almost certainly knew that. Kain nodded. “Very well. I wish to seek new armor, and then view for myself the perimeter of the Hylden’s encroachment. Will you accompany me?”

"New armor?" Raziel rose to his feet. "The Hylden have yours?" Kain had possessed several sets of varying strength--at least he had before his capture.

“Along with, by and large, everything else I carried,” said Kain ruefully. Clothed in blood and bloody boots, Kain stood as well, testing his weight on newly-healed muscles. “I left one suit here, though retrieving it may take some time.” Kain most certainly did not care to arrive at Vorador’s door in this state. For the present, nearly anything would do -- Kain could strip a set of heavy leathers from one of the placeholders who rode upon two-wheeled motorized conveyances easily enough.

"I see. It will do little good to offer you my spare armor--it would not be sized for you, and no doubt you would find it ... scanty." Raziel tilted his head, frankly admiring his sire's nude form. "There is a placeholder merchant that I patronize for my clothing and armor, however, and I have trained him well in the crafting of the garments I require." Namely, less-fragile fabrics, leathers tough enough to withstand tugging by clawed hands, and armor suited for a vampire's changed nature. "I would recommend him to you, if you have no other recourse."

Kain nodded. “My thanks. I would meet you afterwards, then, for reconnaissance.” He was willing to permit Raziel out of his sight for a few hours, or even the space of a day, but very little more than that.

"That is acceptable," Raziel agreed--then hesitated. "There is something that you shall need before then, I think..." With a practiced gesture, he opened a dimensional pocket, and after a moment's hesitation, reached in and grasped the Reaver.

The blade hummed in his hand, calling to him, singing of their twinned hunger--and it took a great deal of effort to suppress the wraithblade's instinctive answer to that call. For several long moments Raziel simply held the blade that was to be his prison as if he had forgotten of Kain's existence.

Indeed, in many respects, it already was his prison. The blue energies that rimmed the blade stirred with all the mindless appetite of a black hole -- plucking, grasping, furious in its mad hunger.

Kain looked from the blade to Raziel, watching shadows of expression float across the elder’s face. Even with the changes wrought by evolution and time, Kain had no hope of besting Raziel. If the elder chose to keep the sword -- to bypass his fate by leaving the Reaver locked away in some dimensional pocket -- Kain could do very little to prevent him.

Slowly, Kain extended his hand, black talons gleaming in the shifting light, silently waiting.

The temptation was there; to let Nosgoth finally end, to let Kain suffer as Raziel had suffered--it would be a fitting kind of revenge, all in the name of gaining his freedom. Raziel's hand tightened around the hilt, and the blue light in the eye-sockets of the hilt flared a little brighter.

He raised his eyes to Kain's face, judging what he saw there.

Then, he reversed the blade, and extended the hilt to his sire. Completing the circle of his fate once again, of his own choice.

Kain breathed out as his palm closed around the leather-wrapped hilt. The sword was an entity, seeking and murderous and fathomlessly deep, and Kain had all but forgotten how very right it felt in his grasp. With care, he lifted the blade free of Raziel’s talons, holding it up, just... familiarizing himself with the heft and balance of the blade once more. The Reaver was, as always, whole and undamaged.

Kain looked to Raziel, and nodded -- in thanks, and in recognition.

Raziel felt as if something should be said--but anything he might have cautioned, Kain already knew. Kain would protect the Reaver, even without knowing its full importance. It would have to be enough.

With a silent nod of his own, Raziel stepped back a pace and teleported, vanishing in a flare of light.


End file.
